I had read all about the procedure. I knew what to expect, for the most part. I even watched videos of it on YouTube. None of the videos I watched even came close to what I experienced, but that’s beside the point. I expected to be nervous and have anxiety over the procedure. That’s normal. I expected that, given my past and history, I would have more than the normal amount of anxiety over the procedure, and I was prepared to deal with that too. I anticipated possible negative outcomes, like the possibility I’d have a heart attack or abnormal heart rhythm, that they’d puncture a lung or I’d lose blood rapidly and need a transfusion. These are all super duper rare things, but I was prepared to accept that they were possibilities that might could happen. What I never expected was that I would go through all the pain and discomfort of having the procedure done, actually having it done, but not being able to complete it and get any useful data for the test. I went through the whole thing, and I got nothing to show for it but the bad memories, the bruises and the scars.